Spring on Prince Edward Island

Well perhaps it goes without saying, after this long delay in writing here that once again the adventure has taken another turn. Things went south with my army buddy Jason at the Juniata county house and it was time to leave, rather abruptly I might add. I bailed in with my sister and we took an impromptu but traditional (and traditionally expensive) trip to Atlantic City. We spent a few days with our old friend of childhood, the New Jersey shore. My pals at the little Greek restaurant remembered us and we had some good food there at the end of Kentucky Ave. We had a great ocean view suite at the Renaissance Hotel, room 907.

At that time 2 weeks ago I had just planned on renting a place near the kids and just continue on with the family reunification mission. The place south of town was marginal but affordable until something else better came along. Joey and I took a ride down to scope the place and he agreed I should probably not be stuck down there on I-83. So after a night at the kids place and a hassle parking the Blazer, I just decided to drive back here to the Island.

I went on a pizza delivery with Joey and emotionally told him I was heading North again. I think he was sad, but perhaps relieved too. It had been a strain as R never knew I had returned to PA for over 3 months. Alexis had an incident with her man involving a forbidden stay over discovered by mom and her man, causing much stress on the kids.

So it was back to my island home to stay with Mary until I find a new place. I felt silly giving up my place here of nearly 4 years for only a few months-but at least I escaped most of the worst of the island winter. I just rented a nice place on Convent Street, about two blocks from my old home. I move in next Friday.

It has been nice to spend time with Mary, but it is not tension free. We have been dining and dancing-she is a great dancer and cook, a truly lovely lady. She really wants me just to stay here with her, but our personal situations complicate that at the moment. I need some alone time to regroup and decide if I am here to stay of if I will try again to move south, with better planning this time.

There is a possibility I may just stay on the island. Its affordable and beautiful, and I had a real homecoming celebration from the folks at the dance clubs, my neighbours-even the store clerks. Such a small town. Deep with many sorrows but also a place of great beauty. Once again I will miss various outdoor events with my son, so long planned, that just never seem to happen even with all of our maximum efforts.

So a few months here or a few years? Maybe my kids will visit me this summer here.

Shel has emailed me with car trouble. She does not yet know that I am back on the island. For better or worse I am going to remain incognito until I am fully established in my new place. Mary has hinted that I have no place else to go-giving her a powerful upper hand at the moment-for two weeks less a day-then I am back in my own place and free to sort things out.

I would not have returned here directly without Mary. Perhaps not at all. But I am still unsure about our long-term situation and I feel I may be over-playing my hand a bit just to get along until April 3. For sure I am stuck here until that time-another blissful prison.

After I am back in my own place I can sort out the next couple of months. I have serious decisions to make before June 1. More on that later. Sure miss the kids. Visit interruptous.

Crisp Night of the Full Moon

It has been almost two weeks since my last entry. I have continued my audio logs. The march of fall progresses as now we have the first frosts, red maple trees, and can see our breath. Not a whole lot of news from Shel. She is still looking for a place in our "big" city and says she will have her stuff out around November 1. I have missed her greatly but my girl is lost in her own fantasies-some about how truly awful I am and others about how truly wonderful she is.

I am still planning on leaving the island at some point. The details are a bit difficult as there is really no way to select a home on the other end-I really need to go there and look around. This will mean some time in a motel. I just hope I do really get some time with the kids or I might just as well stay put here.

At least the Canadian dollar has crashed along with the US stock market. This adds a few dollars to my pension on this end-actually discounting my rent by about 40% should the loonie stay down until the end of the month.

I spent a lot of time with my lady friend Mary this weekend. It is nice to be pampered by a lady again. She is a good cook and very spiritual and feminine. We went up to North Cape today to see the wind farm. She, born and raised on the island, had never been there. Its 60 miles from Summerside.

She has never been in a plane. She has been off island twice in 50 years. The tragedy of her island life-especially her childhood and marriage is a horror. But it is all too common a tale when individual lives here in the Maritimes are examined. There is pain and human suffering beside the red cliffs and pastoral beauty of the planted fields.

I really am not sure what will come of it. All I know is this chapter closes. Shel fades to a tragic memory, among the joyous glimpses of our storybook romance and marriage. The travels. The foods. The love-making. Her beauty. Washed away in a sea of red clay tears on a foreign beach-sunk deep into the red mud of the old clay roads.

Mary to give me solace in her maturity and simplicity. Mary to be hurt when I leave the island as she and a few others are quite in love with me. The enigmatic Yankee. A romantic warrior tossed on a exile shore.

Crazy Germaine is back. I have been gone all weekend. Jerry let him in. Its OK-but he can't stay here forever without paying rent. He rather takes over the living room and smokes in there. His English is so bad its hard to communicate. Hopefully he will make some fertilizer, sell it, and go back to the Magdalen Islands. Somehow I doubt it will all be that easy.

I had invited Shel over Sunday as I had some oysters and quahogs left over that Manny Gallant gave me. I never heard anything and continue to get cold, unfriendly mails. She claims to be coming over to organize this week. I am not sure why. So I asked her to give me a little warning. There is no way that she doesn't miss her life. She thinks she has improved, reinvented herself. She is now just another young girl with nothing, working a minimum wage job, uneducated, with a hollow future. It is a far cry from Arizona palm trees and a pool , no responsibility and no cares.

She will miss that as the years swiftly pass. I can reinvent all that rather easily. But there will be no Shel. Actually now I am unsure that we will remain the promised friends we agreed to be. It is really tough to lose a loved one. Death is an eye opening. I still miss my dad after 36 years. My mother, my rock and guide gone now just over 4 years. My beloved wife, gone on lies and tragedy now almost 5 years. But my best friend-alive and unrepentant, still breathes an easy breath while the tears of our souls rain on the lost hollows of the broken heart.

But I will still make the effort. I will email her with news of the travels. She shall be a central character in the novel. I hope she gives me an address so I can send her magnets and postcards. Perhaps she doesn't care. Never really did. Now I know why Germany lost a war they should have won. No quarter. No forgiveness. The savagery of the Hun. Blue eyes flashing, Blond curling. Blood flowing. Defeated.

Strong winds, Angry sea

So October arrived yesterday very gently. The warm afternoon and a glass calm harbour made for some nice relaxing fishing. It really wasn't my day. I only caught a few small smelt and 2 scrawny mackerel. But they cooked up nicely with island tomato-cucumber salad, farm fresh carrots and potatoes, and quahogs and oysters courtesy of Manny Gallant.

Manny is a soulmate fisherman and friend, perhaps business partner to be of mine. He pines away for his pretty wife. He opines that he is illiterate as he has been in a boat since age 12 to help with the family fishing business, and never went to school. I explain that I find it rather charming. This soulful man is healthy and prosperous. He glows with what I now identify as "Island Health". They have that here. Fishing. Can't read or write much. Oysters. Never been off island. Mackerel. Neat little farm. Artist wife. Never been in a plane. Inbreeding. Fresh quahogs. Big tomatoes. Healthy kids. 4 wheel drive. Divorce. Blizzards. Strong island moonshine. Hurricanes. I am in total complete envy. West Virginia on the Sea.

My soft tired educated body. I will miss this special place. Its rotund incomprehensible females. The shine. The bootleggers. Lobster at 4 bucks a pound. My wife.

I was sure that the last time I caught smelt I smelled something familiar-from a long ago dream-time. Yesterday I caught the scent when I landed the angry smelt-it was the smell of thyme and cucumber, that I had smelled long ago. The arctic grayling I caught in Alaska yarens ago smelled that way. Hence the scientific name of grayling, Thymallus. The arctic grayling is a sport fish somewhat like a trout. It has a huge very beautiful dorsal fin, almost like a sail. They are silvery gray and have tiny black and blue spots, as I recall. The fish used to range into the Northern US, but was extinguished long ago along with most good things during deforestation, pollution, greed, and mortal sin.

I have heard there are grayling stocked in the Arizona rim mountain lakes. To me, since I have spent a lot of the prior 15 years at those lakes fishing (for trout), I am unsure about any Arizona grayling. Maybe Montana or the U.P. of Michigan, but I can't confirm it. But in Alaska, grayling, like eagles are or were then (my last Alaska trip was in 1993), everywhere.

On the Internet I looked up smelt as the odour and even taste of these fish was grayling. Indeed they are closely related fish. The grayling has two distinct memories I will share here. When I took Rhonda to Alaska to go camping before we got married we fished grayling. I think I caught a bunch in a ditch by a culvert along the Denali Highway. It was probably 1985.

I took out our trusty little stove and cooked grayling along the road. Rhonda and I had fish together there, it was great. It is a very fond memory of my first wife before the dark times.

On the first trip to Alaska with Shel, wife 2, I fished grayling again in nearly the same spot. Actually, Shel only went to Alaska with me once. She was truly a child bride-barely 20 at the time of our trip.

I caught a truly impressive grayling, the largest I had seen. I wanted to take a photo of it. I asked Shel to hold the writhing fish up so I could take the shot. She, terrified of live fish to this day, refused. So you will have to take my word that that fish was 25 inches if it was a foot-thats a big grayling. (Alaskans consider grayling trash fish, pronouncing the name with a long A sound, ahhhhh, instead of the vowel-arctic graahhling.)

Here today as October begins the leaves are turning and falling very quickly. Very hard rain and hurricane force winds today made my evening walk difficult. The harbour was a froth of mud-red swells and shiny whitecaps, wind-whipped so salt can be tasted strong in the air in my living room.

I saw Cindy, but I didn't tell her I am moving out yet. The decision came painfully, slowly, but today I started to clean a bit and pack. I really have little to take south-just what I arrived here with 3 1/2 years ago.

Today 2 years ago I had been living on PEI 9 months. Shel asked me on this date back then, in 2006, to move out. It was then that the 6 month imbroglio with EIC and the Gustafson's began in Ottsville. It was really a wonderful experience and I had real quality time with my kids-even on the holidays. I know now that is why all that happened-it had little to do with business.

I will state for the record that both my Child-Centered Assessment and my E-Petz patents are great ideas. But I will have to do it myself or with family, without greed.

My pal Germain is back off to North Lake in search of Donnie Rose and Russian fish plant girls in Souris. I for one am about complete in my unpaid consulting services to Mr. Fougere. In fact, my friend Manny Gallant stopped by today. He has concerns about the business idea.

I told him I was glad to help, but that I am probably leaving, and that like the Gustafson's the chance of our colleagues (Fougere) business being a success were slim. Not because the idea is bad, but because of him.

Tomorrow I look forward to a calmer day and perhaps some fishing, and a call to the kids.

I guess I didn't record here that Shel stopped by Monday. She had said that she wanted to organize things. She still has no place and is living with Kathleen. There is much that both of us will have to leave behind-not the least of which are our hearts.

She was pretty angry at first. The issue of money and what bills are due being paramount. We settled that and she calmed a bit, looking stunning with bright blue-green eyes blaring and an adorable short-curly blond hairstyle-my Shel, my child-wife, who can't bear children. Tragedy within a tragedy.

She ate some of my cucumber salad and muffins. I had made cold coffee for her with creamer and sugar as she likes earlier in the day. I had to substitute honey for sugar, and I don't think she liked it so much. I thought it pretty good.

We actually parted on good terms. The one thing that sticks with me during her tirade was that she "wants her husband back". As if I am so different. so far, so much a distant memory. Oh save but one last chance to be a couple-she feels the loss too, but now moves into a new world.

Her world will not be the blissful days of lounging by our pool under the palms, with the smell of ancho chilies drifting on the wind. It will be 6 days a week of work without me.

It seems as Shel as an immigrant here has ended up a bit like my beautiful Russian fish plant girlfriends in Souris. 6 days a week of work and little money, in shared housing, praying for some escape after buying into the dream to live and work in Canada. To some of the girls, if not all I met, Kaliningrad is sounding better and better-to go home. That's a scary determination.

Maybe someday Shel will miss the palms, the chilies, and a real home too. She is part Russian, after all.

Up West and Real Work

So since I met the "Doctor" of organic landscaping Germain Fougere from the Magdalen Islands, I have been involved in a new and fascinating business venture. Involved originally only to set-up a web site and be a general business and entrepreneurship consultant, I am now actually getting my soft hands dirty.

We take a similar trip in the big Ford Diesel truck of "Fougere Organic Landscaping" about twice a week. Again today we went to the "Old Man's", a very pious anglophone gentleman named Loren near Richmond. Loren has clear bright intelligent blue eyes and is nearly deaf. Fougere has been storing equipment and supplies there. We loaded the trailer with what I imagine was close to a ton of plants, rocks, gardening stuff, shells, and one very heavy ( about 600 pounds) cast iron crusher. It had been a while since I worked that hard and I felt alive again. Loren lives in a homemade hut that is sinking into the boggy soil. It is filled with interesting but valueless things accumulated over his long life. He gave me two religious books, one called"I Need A Miracle" by Pastor Benny Hinn. I think he knew exactly what I needed. He had preached as a young man in Appalachia. I was somewhat envious, perhaps the smallest of my sins to date.

He carves amazing images of geese from huge pieces of wood and carefully paints them as to life. His wood stove is rusting through the floor. He has no insurance as his home is not "insurable". His phone was cut off. The company putting the power lines from Summerside to North Cape's new windfarm is coming across Loren's fallow sad land. He hopes they will pay a fair price for the easement. Maybe 6000 dollars. Perhaps this 85 year old man will not have to freeze alone in the cold this long and soon to arrive sub-arctic winter. His son distant and somewhat of an ass I am told, away in the "real world" and business.

It was a great clear sunny day. The sea was beautiful up west along the "lighthouse trail", route 11. We stopped as always to see Fougere's and now my friend Danielle. We need a motor and PTO ( Power Take Off) to run the lobster shell crushing machine. They talked Acadian, which I am starting to get a bit of, thanks little to my long forgotten high school Parisian French.

We then stopped at Manny's place to drop the trailer we will unload tomorrow. Manny is a soulful, sorrowful outwardly cheerful man, an oyster fisherman who built his own solid boat and at 55 could probably pick me up at 180 pounds like a feather. It was a great cold night, the milky way bright along with the planet Jupiter embedded in it like a bright white luminous gem. Manny lives on a neat little farm near his oyster beds in the Northumberland Strait. The farm is very neat and cozy and Manny is one of those people you instantly knew if you had to leave a thousand dollars cash with him to hold, it would be there when you return. He gets a few crates of oysters each day after 10 hours of back breaking work raking the bottom of the sea in churning swells under blistering sun or freezing winds.

Manny gets about 50 dollars a crate for his oysters. The shells are infested with shell worms this year. They cut tiny perfect holes in the shells but don't harm the delicious meat inside. Despite that, only one oyster buyer on the island will buy Manny's "ugly" oysters. Oddly enough its the oyster wholesaler across the way from George and Brenda Henderson's cottage in Freeland. That is where Shel and I stayed long ago when we were first coming here each summer. Long ago, so it seems, when I picked the wild mushrooms in George's little pine forest and steamed them with edible jewels from the sea (to the locals terror and amazement). I had learned, being self-taught, mushroom collecting in the high pine and aspen mountain forests of Arizona. Also dimming into that past.

He grows nice tomatoes and a few other things in a small garden. He shared tomatoes with us-a real luxury this far north when the incredibly short growing season ends. Manny is finalizing a divorce after 10 years with the artist wife who his feelings for are well concealed but to a fellow sufferer glow in that slight moistening of eye with a glance towards her primitive oils hanging on the old wall, or with a little deepening of the fisherman's sun and wind-worn brow. The artist wife. How well I know.

Manny is quite the artist himself. He crafts beautiful decorative items from driftwood and large, ancient white oyster shells. He built a little gift shop near the road that is quite a nice cottage in its own right, matching the perfect yellow Victorian farmhouse. He cries inside. Artist wife gone and the tourists far and few between. Gone now until summer returns-a truly distant and abstract thought. As goes the artist wife.

I know I'll be sore tomorrow-that's OK. No news from Shel, but I got a nice email from my son. Tomorrow we unload the ton of stuff and I hope my back holds out. Then to the beach for seaweed collection to make the fertilizer product.

You really never know whats around the next corner. I just wish it was spring instead of fall, as winter looms and I have decisions to make about my home and life on PEI. Quite a change in paradigm in a couple weeks. Maybe work therapy is what I need. I am really back in the environmental field in a very physical way. I also obtained oyster shell chemistry data for product labelling. Fougere needs my patent and trademark help too, but that comes later as orders are filled and I create an Internet presence. Its pretty exciting.

I have my desk work, legal work, computer, and even outdoor physical labour in one of the most beautiful places on earth. How about that? Retirement? Maybe, but it beats the button-downs and smog and office politics of the big city, in the "real world".

Sundays with Mary and the PEI "question"

So the first day of autumn is here. The day started cool, breezy and cloudy. By evening the sky cleared and it warmed the quiet town ever so slightly. Last night was my usual Saturday night at the "wing" as the air force legion hall is called here. I guess to distinguish it from the regular Canadian Forces "legion" that it sits beside. I met my friends Mary, Eva and her husband. Judy, Joan, and Rebe didn't show last night. There may have been a band elsewhere, and they are not big fans of Karaoke. Nor am I, but there are a few good singers and its better than sitting in my place waiting for emails from Shel or Joey. We sip water and dance rather badly I think. The attitude and music the very same as my nights spent in small taverns deep in the mountains of Appalachia during my years on the road.

Mary has become my special friend, after my very short relationship with Judy. Mary is a mature woman, tall with dark curly hair. She has lived her whole life on the island, born up the road a few miles in St. Eleanor's. She left the island once many years ago to go to her nephews wedding, I think, in Brampton, Ontario.

Her life has been a typical island, if not maritime tragedy. Her abusive mother kept her from her father who died, like mine, when she was 15. After a marriage that left her unable to remarry save she lose her support, she has had several variously awful romances. The last was with a trucker who was seemingly seeing another woman the whole time, 15 months, he was with her. This story is repeated in some form or another by almost everyone I meet here.

Mary and I dance and have been somewhat cuddly and close on the dance floor. We "waltz" as they call any dance to a slow song here, even when its rock and roll twist music. We often stay in embrace after the music stops and the dance floor empties-to the astonishment of everyone. Its good in some ways, but I doubt Ill get another date at the wing as I seem "taken". But it is a pure friendship and I suspect it will remain so.

I meet Mary Sundays and we talk for hours about family issues, good, bad, and ugly. Finding some comfort mutually in trying to discover why our relationships are so failed. It is quite sad. But the talks help. Today I showed her photos from my past lives-the big house, kids as babies playing at the New Jersey shore. My airplane, Mercedes, Chimney house-my red 'vette convertible with Shel lounging on the hood seductively somewhere in the mountain west years ago.

These are things as alien to her as a walk on the surface of Mars. I am attracted to her simplicity, lack of bitterness, and good church-going heart. Hours past and I just got home a bit ago. I missed my Sunday call to Joey as I had lost track of time. We sat today at the yacht club, as the mall was closed this Sunday, as it will be now as the tourists are gone away home, back to school, jobs, and the reality of the outside world.

One thing we discuss is my leaving PEI. Forever? For a month? Never? She overflowed like a happy teenager at a prom when I suggested I may not leave at all. It breaks my heart as I fear I may have to break hers. She won't be the only lady here that will miss me. And I will miss each and everyone of them.

No news today from my wayward Shel. Divorce now is imminent and I will have to file the papers soon. Shel wouldn't be able to, and she seems to think that we just go to the courthouse and sign a paper. It is , of course, more complex. I find the whole process distasteful and although I love my island, all those times I could have just stayed in PA with the kids makes me feel embarrassed. You see, I had three chances to stay in PA and chose each time to return to the island. Either to be with Shel or to try and get her to come home. As recently as August 5th, Shel was moving back in with me and/or going to Calgary with me. But no. It didn't happen.

So the three years I have been here seem a bit wasted. I mean that I could have had a little time with the kids as kids. But they have grown up, suddenly while I was here trying in vain to recapture a marriage that as I realize now was over in 2003. I guess.

I read Shel's journals from the 90's and she tells page by page of he unending love for me. Well it seems ended. One way or the other I must escape that bind. A new life-here on the island of dreams and sorrows, or back in harsh reality down south, in the states, my home home in Harrisburg to be near my beloved children.

Mail from my fine son

Dad,

Keep enjoying your fish. You sound a little lonely up there. I was thinking that if you came down we might not see each other that much but it would certainly be more than it is now. I've been seeing lots of homes for rent around here. There are definently places to stay. Even a place by the library caught my eye. Well, life has been good. Beautiful down here. Starting to cool off a little though. Been hearing about more hurricanes so I expect some rain. Everyone seems ok. Lexi got a job at Party City (costume place), started Monday. She enjoys it. It's cool. Mom transferred to another Dept. too. She also enjoys it. I still work at YP but I lowered my hours and have been enjoying it more lately. You would be proud, I'm attending church with Andrea and her folks now. There is a sermon and a parenting class I'm taking with her. I've been getting a great deal of postive messages lately from professors, the pastor and even my therapist. I'm trying to take your advice and live in the moment. Really happy at the moment. I'm looking forward to going fishing ,Star Trek, and good conversation again. Seeya dad. Love,Joey-----Original Message-----From: joe manduke To: Joey Sent: Tue, 9 Sep 2008 4:43 pmSubject: Tuesday Sept 9
Bink,

Just an update note-I won't call you until Friday or Sunday if you are around. Lots of rain here in and out as summer ends. The tall (sailing) ships are in town this week along with a parasailing meet-so big ships by where I fished docked-kinda cool.

I guess I said Shelly is off to Charlottetown to start her new life-obviously done in many ways so she can start a new life away from our town here. She is doing well and I guess I will just have to be happy with her friendship, if that survives-I hope so. OH, she sends her regards and love to you both..it is all exceptionally unfortunate and I have had some dark days pal, but it is time to try to come home. Any help you can offer I humbly accept.

Fishing has been slow due to wind and tides. But I am still munching on fish I have frozen. I have a french speaking guy, a fisherman from islands north of here who is staying with me until he gets his business going. Its ok but his english is weak and I am totally immersed in french for the moment-lol.

So there it is. The truck still needs work but I am confident it will come home. November 3rd is prob my departure day as most practical-we will see. Check the army location near the house and ask if they could help me for a month or so after this imbroglio-lol You can prob just stop by.

I am homesick as hell now, and want to try and make this happen as painfree as possible...any thoughts are appreciated...I know..just drive away..lol

Love you much

Dad

Sunny day after 3 weeks of rain

Finally the sun appeared in Summerside today. I have been fishing for mackerel at the city pier. It was nice to sit out in the rain yesterday and fish. It reminded me of a cool spring day during Pennsylvania trout season on the Yellow Breeches long ago.

I had thought Shel would be moving back in after her job at Frenchy's in Borden ended in the fall. But she did get a job at the "Best of PEI" store in Char'Town starting September 8. She lost her purse and all of her ID during her move from Elayne Lord's place in Cape Traverse. I attempted to assist her in getting another drivers licence. but there are Arizona paperwork problems and I may have to take Shel to Halifax to resolve them.

Since nothing seems to be coming out of my Canadian job search, I am looking south again. I did enjoy my trip to Calgary and my short visit to Banff and Lake Louise. I am short listed on an Army job at the Red River Depot-but I am not sure about Texas.

In talking with the kids it may be time to bid goodbye to my place on PEI and go back to Pennsylvania. I know Joey would like that, and with no roommate again this winter, a long period of frozen ocean seems less appealing than ever.

It would be nice to go to Halifax with Shel. Maybe we can stop by our Port Dufferin house and share that moment one last time. I am sure the path will be shown to me, but it seems my time here with Shel is finally ending. It was my best effort in something I felt was most important for us both. Some battles cannot be won, no matter how true the intentions.

The weather looks good for a while now after 3 weeks of gloom and cool winds. The fish are in and the sun warm. If this is my last summer on the island, I want to make it as good as I can. The issues and realities of family down south are somewhat daunting after this idyll. But I have to do what is best now for Joey, Alexis, and my sister.

Rainy Saturday

Alexis in Harrisburg June 2008


I am sure it is time to place a new entry here. Although I do have my audio recording back, and as usual have stopped writing in my paper journals. It can be a bit discouraging, having tens of thousands of words to transcribe from old text-letters, journals, manuscripts unfinished and finished. I have felt that all the paper will become obsolete-or already has.

The only really permanents records will be left on-line, on sites such as this. So, as a painfully slow typist you see my dilemma!

I have had some good chats with the kids. Both really want to move in with me. But this is impractical as I am in Canada and they have school duties down south. My relationship with Shel remains strained. We were doing fine, but have degraded due to silly arguments and bad tempers over the past few weeks.

It seems my work future may be Alberta. The money is good and there are lots of things to clean-up and investigate. If nothing seems appropriate, it may be that with great sadness I may have to leave my island to be closer to the children, who now are really missing dad. The decision will be made quite soon I think.

Tourist season is in bloom here and its been quite warm The harbour water is now bathtub warm and although shallow makes for a nice swim only a short walk away. How does one leave such a place. Only family and money issues can do that. Otherwise it would be madness to leave here.

So pressures mount and decisions must be made. In the mean time I will try to continue writing, although in an awful slump now, and visit the beach. Life could be much worse than that.

June 18, 2008 Wednesday

Cool and drizzly today, with a little weak lightning. As last year, June is a cool gray month on the island of unused beaches.

I am actually feeling a bit guilty about not starting to write the entire tale of my holiday fishing and camping with my son. The project will require much more time and inspiration than I have right now. My trip notes survive, although sparser than I had hoped. A time in Appalachia, reliving my own youth. I mean the trip we took was a representation of my trips long ago, rod in trunk seeking fishing places and the colour of ruralia. We accomplished that. But the story begs far deeper for both of us in its revelations. The simplicity of the camp, stream, my old truck-camp food. Swimming the broad river, and fresh trout for a tailgate dinner in a remote place. It will wait a few days more to be told, as business looms.

I am flying to Vancouver Sunday to meet with a group that may need my skills in their enterprise. Two days in a new city, on a new harbour, far from this home. But yet not that unfamiliar, as my times in Seattle and San Francisco I suspect similar. We will see.

Talked with David at the Air force wing a long time tonight about the states and Canada. He is a retired teacher, and had many insights. We discussed the arcane "Aroostook" War. The conflict involving the Maine border long ago.

It was pizza day here, and I had many phone calls. It seems my draw into the world of commodity related environmental issues is where I am going. Well, its a new world. A lot of the problems I solved as a young man seem to be in good hands with the younger generation. I should be exuberant at the new chance-a new world, exotic places.

Still no word from Shel. I think she must be busy, or can't get on-line.

There is extra pizza for her here at home. I hope she comes back from the bush this week before my travels. In any case, I am prepared to send Vancouver postcard to Shel and my sister. The two lost souls in my life.

I did get an email from my son. He has a bass guitar now and he and a pal have started a band called "Rahal". It reminds me of my high school music career. Although short lived, it was fun. I also played the bass.

Close of Fishing with my son

It has been very hot on the mainland, far from my island home. We started out on our camping and fishing journey just after my son's high school graduation. I think it was a tough journey for him, but he is stolid. Here, at the econolodge in Mifflintown, along the Juniata of my youth, we conclude our journey. We started at Towanda and our traditional place of islands on the Terrytown side of the river. It was hot, we swam, cooked what we had. The fish were uncooperative with the heat. But we were greeted by every type of bug bird or Snake. Joey awoke one morning to report a giant black snake at the tent door. I explained black racers are harmless and he should be glad to meet the snake.

We decided after all to drive to Westline, and Kinzua Creek. Here we camped in an amazing thunderstorm in the Allegheny plateau, among ever increasing oil wells. But Thundershower run was clean and cold-we caught trout for dinner. I made a heart healthy meal of old bacon, butter sticks, potatoes, onions, and wild brook trout.

This morning after the rain, flocks of butterflies visited us. Mostly yellow swallowtails, but some others as well. It was very stirring.

Joey told me Homet's ferry carried some bad memories of his childhood. It was here, long ago, we played with the children in the river of my youth as the power struggle of the divorce raged. I was unaware of my now grown son's feelings.

We promised to find new places to camp and fish. Now my journey takes me back to work, at the request of my son. I am not sure where that will be. But college bills loom.

I am most anxious in any case to return to "my island". It will be nice to be cool again and see my sea.

Last day of May 2008 Prince Edward Island

It was a glorious day today. The bitter ever present winds were gone , with bright sunshine. I still continue with phone calls from headhunters and others seeking my lifetime of experience with the world and its troubles. The other day, I visited Shel at the Cape Traverse cottage. We had burgers on the grill-a real treat! It had been a while. We walked to the nearby red-cliff ed beach and almost held hands. It is a most lovely part of the world I will separate from in only a few days. We had seen a hummingbird at the cottage window. It was a brief glimpse of a gossamer buff and black spectre. Later, while painting a deck, Shel said the bird was back. It came to her, hovered, came close, and brushed her hand, giving goosebumps and a feeling of awe on the dew-soaked, pine scented red cliff beach. My mother told me once that if she returned to this world after death, she would be a hummingbird-one of nature's most amazing creations.

My profound feelings for this amazing young woman , my wife are moving, passionate, and truly sad. No two people could be closer. But in this unfair world, other pressures often drive our individual decisions, our Christian free will.
Ill say here what I wanted to write to her on one of our unique pink "hoggnotes", little note papers that are in the shape of a happy little hog. (We always spell the endearment with two G's).

I was thinking of one theory of creation. That the universe began as a tiny spot in a great unfathomable explosion in a time untold billions of years ago. Then it kept growing and the universal mind that is God made all this by organizing the chaos. Then, some say, at some time in a nearly infinite future, it will all collapse and return to a singular tiny dot. Then it begins again, an infinite cycle, I wanted to tell Shel that I would love her forever, until the universe recreated itself, and we would be together forever, as God intended.

But I thought that in reality, I need to say nothing. My mother said, before she died to me, that all we need to say we have said between us. I truly miss my mother, the finest person I have ever known. I will love Shel until the universe reinvents itself-forever.

Monday June 18 2007

I just found this third or "missing diary" of the three I have written here on PEI. It was in my brown business bag. Well not much written between then and now, but there are many audio recorded journals. I won't rehash the past. Today is a cool, breezy day. After a glorious "hot" sunny day yesterday. I went with Shel to her beach job at Chelton Beach. We argued like savages, but it was actually a good day. She works for Maggie of the "Steak Pit" here in Summerside, summers at the little canteen concession at the Chelton Beach Provincial Park. Its a cute job, as a college kids summer job. She makes hambergers and hot dogs, fries, chicken, ice cream, etc.

The beach is nice there and we made a deal I'll go with her a few times a week-not all the time so we don't get on each others nerves. I haven't been able to get the kids on the phone and no new email. Ill try again tomorrow.

Modern note:
The summer was really nice here on PEI in 2007. The times I went to volunteer at Chelton to cook at the canteen reminded me of jobs I had after high school. It was a lot of fun. We both got great tans, and had some quality time together. I had hoped to get back down south, but spent the whole summer on the island. Shel had just gotten back from Colorado, where she attended nephew Kelby Konig's high school graduation. She flew out of Manchester, NH and we had a nice but short little roadtrip back to the island. We ferried across Lake Champlain to Vermont and it was a lot like old times. I wish it could have been a longer trip, but Shel had to be back here for work.